


a relapse in mentality

by Anonymous



Category: Danny Gonzalez, Drew Gooden - Fandom
Genre: Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Not a vent, Suicide, definitely not a vent, hope this doesn't get tracked back to my main account, ngl kinda sad, pretty repetitive, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:46:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28085658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: fake another smile. tell another lie. take another sip.maybe then you’ll be perfect.
Relationships: Danny Gonzalez/Drew Gooden
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19
Collections: Fanfic Anonymous





	a relapse in mentality

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'd, super edited, and probably super shitty  
> (read the tags)

c’mon, drew. don’t you want to be perfect?

the answer is always a desperate  _ yes.  _

all you gotta do is just take another sip. write another paragraph. stay up an extra hour. record another video.

but it’s never enough. never (ever) enough.

fake another smile. tell another lie. take another sip.

maybe, if you drink enough all your sins will somehow wash away.

maybe, if you drink enough you’ll be able to forget that night.

that dumb fucking night; a dumb fucking mistake.

and suddenly you’re taking another sip.

a sad, lonely night. a moment of weakness. calling your best friend, begging for company. he comes over, to your surprise (maybe he actually cares?). 

and now you’re lying to yourself.

he comes over, and 

( _ stop trying to forget _ )

and you break out the vodka.  _ weird, you never drink. _ but tonight’s a night to celebrate.

( _ “what are we celebrating?” danny had asked; you couldn’t respond. _ )

the vodka is soon gone, you make a dumb joke about how rebelious danny could be. ( _ “the reb and vodka of youtube” danny had laughed, and you kinda liked it. danny could be the reb to your vodka. _ )

and suddenly you don’t know what you’re doing. suddenly, you’re pressing your lips against his. suddenly, danny isn’t pushing away, and is instead reciprocating. (maybe he actually cares?).

stop lying to yourself. 

but danny is kissing your neck, and your hands are in his soft hair.

( _ soft hair that smells like lemongrass and cold nights spent cuddling while watching shitty movies. soft hair that smells like the colors yellow and orange but only if they were to be seen by a spider’s perspective. soft hair that smelled like danny gonzalez, your best fucking friend. and all you wanted to do was envelop yourself in his scent. all you wanted to do was drown yourself in his scent. to bury yourself in him.) _

you wanted to pull his skin open and crawl inside of him.

the way he had murmured your name now haunts you, and yet you long for the shame. long for the guilt that stabbed you in the gut with every kiss. 

you’re just staring at your computer screen. you have a video to edit. you have a collab to plan. a wife to say goodnight to.

did you even think of her when you broke every promise you ever made to her?

you can’t tell her. if you do, you’ll lose everything. hell, even danny won’t want to see you.

he isn’t stupid, like you. he wouldn’t let a drunk mistake ruin his marriage. he’s probably already forgotten. 

you hear a quiet  _ bing  _ come from your phone, and guess who it is?

danny gonzalez. your best fucking friend. 

he’s asking to call you. he wants to talk. 

fake another smile. tell another lie. take another sip. 

call danny and tell him it meant nothing.

maybe then you’ll be perfect.

end your friendship with him, tell him you think they should just be business partners. hang up and go to your wife. tell her you love her, and spent the night proving to her that you truly do. 

maybe then you’ll be perfect.

and once she’s fast asleep, sneak out of bed. go to the kitchen, to the cabinet where you keep the alcohol. but this time you aren’t reaching for that- instead you’re straining to grab something else. you’re straining to grab your gun. 

then go to the living room, and paint the walls with your brains. one last masterpiece to bless the world with. 

maybe then you’ll die perfect.


End file.
